My Trip trip to Florida

It has been years since I was in the USA, and I had never been to Florida, nor had I ever wanted to go there, but when, this fall, some very kind relatives offered me an all-expense paid trip to visit them in their Marco Island condo, I agreed, since it would give me a special opportunity to visit with my sister who has Alzheimer’s disease.

It was a relief to see that I had not forgotten how to change planes in Atlanta, and that my niece was waiting for me when I arrived at Fort Myers airport. We drove to Marco Island, in south-west Florida on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, to a rather luxurious, gated-community condo where I spent 17 glorious days enjoying all the amenities of ocean and pool swimming; walking on the beach and gathering shells; watching dolphins frolic in the water; eagles, turkey vultures, and other seaside birds floating in the air; admiring beautiful sunsets, one or two lovely sunrises (I’m not an early riser); and a full moon casting luminous light over the shimmering beach and water. Not to mention delicious meals, and good conversation, although tinged with sadness as I watch my sister and her family cope with the debilitating effects of that cruel disease.

Before travelling south, I had tried to discover the identity of the original inhabitants of the territory I would visit, which is Seminole, http://www.semtribe.com/. The name, “Seminole” comes from the people’s word for themselves, “yal’siminoli”, or “free people”.
Their history is similar to that of other tribes across Turtle Island (North America), with the Seminole people being driven from their homeland by forced marches and brutal dispersal to areas further west, much like the historic “Trail of Tears” inflicted upon the Cherokee people of Georgia and other parts of the Atlantic seaboard.

One Sunday, I was able to attend worship at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Marco Island and was surprised to be shown the “Harriet Bedell Chapel” by the rector, who said that Harriet had been designated a “saint” by the Episcopal Church at its General Convention earlier this summer. On the wall were several old photographs of Harriet and the Seminole people she had befriended, and the parishioners were obviously proud of their “saint” who had been a member of their parish in earlier years.

Born in Buffalo, N.Y., in 1875, Bedell was a school teacher who later trained as a deaconess and served in missions among the Cheyenne Indians in Oklahoma and in a remote area of Alaska. In the early 1930’s, Deaconess Bedell was invited to visit the Seminole Indians in southern Florida.

“Appalled by their living conditions, she began her campaign to improve the quality of life among the Mikasuki-Seminole Indians by living and working with them, not merely teaching them. She sought to revive the doll making and basket weaving skills which had become nearly extinct. She encouraged the incorporation of the intricate patchwork designs made by Indian women into articles of clothing for both women and men. Sales from the arts and crafts store at Blades Cross Mission helped to provide improved income for the Mikasuki-Seminoles. Bedell emphasized health and education rather than religious conversion in her work with the Seminoles; their spiritual and physical comfort was more important to her than religious conversion, and her work and friendship with the Seminoles of Florida reflected those values.” ( http://satucket.com/lectionary/Bedell.htm)

To date, I am unable to find Harriet Bedell mentioned in Seminole history, and I didn’t have a chance to meet or talk with the Aboriginal people of that territory. A gift store owner (non-Aboriginal) in Napes (Fla) told me he didn’t think there were any “Indian” people left in the state. He sold expensive art work, jewellery and crafts but nothing made by the Seminole people. He said he thought they made money with their casinos. (He was apparently referring to the seven Seminole Gaming facilities owned and operated by the Tribe throughout the state.)

So I wonder what happened to Harriet Bedell’s work among the Seminoles? There wasn’t time for me to ask the parishioners, but would they have known, I wonder?

I also met, briefly, a guest visiting the people next door. Fr. Vincent Youngberg is a member of the Passionist Roman Catholic order, living at Our Lady of Florida Retreat House. Ordained later in life, he has never served under a bishop but takes, as his mission, the Gospel message to love Christ to love neighbour as self, to all who will listen. We had very little time to visit but I sensed in him a kindred spirit. You can read more at http://www.ourladyofflorida.org/fr_vince.htm

All in all, it was a wonderful holiday and I enjoyed the chance to experience summer one more time before settling into my small apartment in eastern Ontario where I will engage the winter to come, with fond memories of lying in 95 C degree sun on a warm beach in the sub-tropics - a moment in time spent in la-la land, thanks to the overwhelming generosity and kindness of people who love me.

Thanks be to God
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